


Sleepy Spider Gets the D

by MsCaptainWinchester (rons_pigwidgeon)



Series: 25 Days til Spideypool Christmas 2019 [6]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Cock Warming, Consensual Somnophilia, Hangover, Lazy Mornings, Lazy Sex, M/M, Minor Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:35:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21776875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rons_pigwidgeon/pseuds/MsCaptainWinchester
Summary: "What do you want to do, then?"“We could have sex.” Wade said it the way he said most things he didn’t expect Peter was going to agree to, like tying up Scott Summers and stealing his glasses for the day ‘just to see what he does’ or buying hot dogs from every vendor on the East Side for a taste test that ‘definitely won’t end in Salmonella poisoning, I promise.’But this wasn’t one of those things. Despite all of Peter’s protests, he didn’t hate the idea. Warm and cozy as he was, getting a dick in him didn’t sound like the worst way to spend time snowed in. And the fact that it was Wade’s dick? He would have been lying to say he wasn’t curious. “Okay,” he said, like he was agreeing to get taquitos for lunch.Peter wakes up after the Avenger's Holiday shindig with a monster hangover and a white-out outside. With nowhere to go and no reason to leave his bed, he doesn't. And then Wade joins him. Featuring: a hangover cure for the Hulk, cuddles for days, and the laziest of lazy morning sex
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Series: 25 Days til Spideypool Christmas 2019 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559260
Comments: 21
Kudos: 837
Collections: I'll Be In My Bunk, Only the Most Beautiful





	Sleepy Spider Gets the D

**Author's Note:**

> This is Day... I don't know. The flu took me out for like 3 days last weekend, and I got off schedule, sorry guys. Maybe I'll be more prepared for 25 days next year. Still posting what I can finish this year, including this fic.
> 
> This prompt was submitted to me on tumblr anonymously: _Snowed-in together. "I'm bored. Wanna have sex?" "Wait. Are you being serious?"_
> 
> A note on the consensual somnophilia tag: it's there as a plus one to the cock warming tag for consensual cock warming while asleep. No active sex happens while one or more participants is asleep takes place.

Peter woke up the morning after the Avengers holiday party with a headache the size of the Moon and light sensitivity so harsh he had to hide under his pillow to stop his head from spinning. “Note to self: Asgardian Ale not for spiders,” he grumbled into the empty bedroom.

He lay under the covers for so long that he could sense the movement of light across the room before the nausea finally settled enough for him to lift his head up again. When he did, he found an unexpected sight out the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Tower. Snow. So much snow that it looked like a white-out. The windows were nearly pure white with frozen mist and heavy snowfall. He was too high to see what the ground looked like from his bed, but if the weather had looked like that for more than a few minutes, it was likely a mess on the streets. His spider sense wasn’t going off, but that might have been because his hangover sense had taken over all other brain function.

A soft knock on his door had him groaning back into his pillow again, head pulsing with the rhythm of the knock. The garbled sound must have been loud enough for his visitor to hear through the door because it was cracked open a moment later and Natasha slipped into the room holding a glass of something that wasn’t water or coffee and a small bottle of pills. “My instinct was right, I see. Here, I have a present for you. Drink it slow,” she instructed in a quiet murmur that was just soft enough to be soothing and not inflammatory.

Peter reluctantly sat up, cradling his head in his hands as he did, and took the glass from her. The smell of it as soon as it got near his face was intense, like rotting spinach tossed with a helping of mold culture. Peter instinctually held it as far away from him as he could. “Fuck, what is that? Did you get a hit on me and this is your long game way to kill me by olfactory assault?”

Natasha rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. She was already dressed for the day in black yoga pants and an exercise tank, both standard issue Avengers work-out gear. He shouldn’t have been surprised that she’d already been to the gym. She’d probably already had a healthy breakfast and read the daily reports by now, too. Her expression didn’t leave any room for compromise. “If I wanted to kill you, I could have smothered you with a pillow while you were still comatose from trying to pretend you were an Asgardian last night. That’s Bruce’s hangover cure.”

Peter looked at the drink again with a sigh, pinched his nose with his free hand, and brought the glass to his mouth, averting his eyes from the sallow green tinge. He started gagging as soon as it hit his tongue, but managed to get a few swallows down before setting it on the table with another grimace. “I’ve accidentally eating spoiled milk that tasted better than that. Is _Banner_ trying to kill me?”

“No pain, no gain, right?” she said with a grin, a vindictive glint in her eyes. Peter glared.

“Why are you like this? I watched you down like six martinis last night. Shouldn’t you be a mess right now, too?”

Nat tossed the bottle of pills onto his lap and pivoted to leave the room again. “I’m Russian.”

She closed the door with a soft snick, and Peter was once more alone with the quiet of his room and a wall of snow at his shoulder. His head was still pounding, but his stomach already felt better despite the disgusting taste of the drink. “Get in over your head and suffer the consequences,” he told himself, picking the glass up again and downing the rest in one long swallow. Definitely the worst shot of his life, Asgardian Ale included, but he could feel his headache easing even as he collapsed back into his pillows.

He stared up at the ceiling while he waited for the concoction to finish its job, mind starting to drift off towards what was happening outside. Now that his head hurt less and his vision no longer blurred with sensory overload, he was able to tune into his other senses. No spider alarms. He should probably at least get a progress report, though.

“JARVIS, what are the streets looking like with all the snow?” he said into the quiet.

A holo screen popped up above his head showing a street view, several inches already accumulated on the ground and the street sign across the street only barely visible through the haze. “ _A Winter Storm Warning is in effect until 4pm EST Tuesday. Satelite data indicates that snowfall will continue through Tuesday until early afternoon. National Weather Service recommends that all residents remain indoors. Warming centers have been organized…_ ”

“Is visibility that bad all over the city, or just around the Tower?”

“ _White-out conditions have been reported in all five Burroughs. Mr. Stark has asked me to inform you that web travel is not currently advisable. If you wish to return to your residence, a car can be arranged, but is also inadvisable at this time._ ”

“So, I’m stuck here until it blows over?”

“ _It would appear that way, sir._ ”

“Thanks, JARVIS. Who else is awake?”

“ _Captain Rogers and Mr. Barnes are awake, but currently indisposed. Mr. Stark is working in his private lab. Ms. Potts and Mr. Banner are conducting a yoga session in the gym, and Mr. Wilson is on his way to your room with breakfast at this moment.”_

Peter sat up just as another knock sounded, much less painful this time. He thought about getting out of bed to answer the door himself, but laziness prevailed, and he shot a web at the handle instead.

“Spidey-babe, you’re alive! I was worried after the way I had to physically carry you to bed last night. Wanted to stay and watch you sleep to make sure you were breathing, but Nat threatened to lock me in a lead coffin and bury me in concrete if I kept stalking you…” Wade greeted him, still dressed in Spider-Man pajamas and a black t-shirt, a giant tray in his hands.

“So you watched me on the monitors instead?” Peter finished, knowing Wade’s ways and no longer as bothered by them as he probably should be.

Wade nodded, bringing the tray in his hands over without a hint of shame. It was piled high with fluffy, golden pancakes and the most delicious-smelling bacon. Peter’s mouth watered as the tray was set in front of him, looking over the food in awe. “It hurt me to make bacon like this, but I’ve done worse for you.”

“You’re a literal god to me right now. This smells amazing,” Peter gushed, picking up a slice of bacon and shoving it in his mouth. The flavor of warm fat and salt on his tongue made him melt into his pillows with a happy moan. He didn’t miss the enraptured look Wade gave him over it. “So good,” he mumbled, shoving more into his mouth while Wade climbed onto the foot of the bed.

“Anything for my sweetums,” Wade said, crossing his legs in front of him and resting his chin in his hands as he watched Peter demolish his breakfast.

“How are you not also on your ass? You had just as much ale as I did,” Peter asked between bites.

Wade shrugged, still content to watch him eat. “Only got me buzzed for half an hour. But I liked watching you try to flirt your way into Steve and Bucky’s bed.”

Peter dropped his fork with a loud clatter and his jaw with it. “I did not,” he said, cheeks already burning.

Wade’s wicked grin was all the confirmation he needed. “Sure did, hot stuff. ‘I heard a rumor that you and Steve used to spend a lot of time with Peggy Carter, just the three of you. Have you thought about spending time with someone else again or was that just a Peggy thing?’”

“I did not ask that,” Peter said, his cheeks burning even harder. He averted his eyes to his food, unable to meet Wade’s gaze with that kind of shame swirling in his belly. Final decision, no more Asgardian Ale. Ever.

“It was really cute. I think Buck almost said yes, too, but Steve never would have gone through with it. Not ‘cause you’re not hot, because you know you’re like the sun, but drunk sex, not really his thing.”

Peter rolled his eyes at the compliment and sucked maple syrup off his fork to try to distract himself from the embarrassment. He was never going to be able to face Captain America ever again, apparently. Bucky he wasn’t so worried about. He could handle whatever ribbing was coming his way. But Cap. You didn’t drunk proposition Captain America without dying of embarrassment when he turned you down.

“I can see your anxiety spiraling. If you want, we can run away to South America when the snow gets better until they forget it happened.”

Peter laughed, some of the anxiety fading under the mental image of the two of them hiding out in some mountain village in Peru. He stretched his feet out to tuck his toes under Wade’s calf and went back to eating. “What other life-ruining things did I do last night? I’ve never gotten black-out drunk before, but I don’t remember anything after Thor handed me the bottle.”

“You danced on the ceiling like a maniac, tried to take your mask off because you were hot like eight times. I finally had to steal one of your web-shooters to web it to your head so you couldn’t. Almost made out with Kate, but I thought you might regret it in the morning, so I stopped that, too.”

Peter’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. Him trying to hit on Kate wasn’t a shock—she’s a hottie and everyone, including her, knows it—but the fact that she was going to _let him_ was surprising. “What did Johnny say to that?”

“Think he wanted to join in. They were making out a few minutes before you popped in and asked if you could join.”

Peter didn’t hate the idea. He’d only met Johnny Watts a few times, but he was just as hot as Kate. “Wouldn’t have been the worst thing.”

“Except you wouldn’t have remembered it in the morning, and Clint would never let you live it down.”

Peter held out the last forkful of pancake to Wade with a grateful smile. “Can’t argue with that. You’re my guardian angel. Thanks for saving me from drunken embarrassment all night instead of enjoying yourself.”

“Who said I didn’t enjoy myself?” Wade took the bite with a wink, leaning over the tray to reach the fork with a steadying hand on Peter’s ankle over the blankets.

Peter rolled his eyes again and moved the tray off his lap and onto the floor. “I regret thanking you already,” he said, nudging Wade’s leg out of the way so he could stretch out under the covers again. “If I can’t go on patrol, I’m going back to sleep.”

He didn’t expect Wade to clamber under the covers with him with an excited squeal, but he probably should have. “Are we having a sleepover? I love sleepovers.”

“I don’t think I invited you, but whatever, just don’t hog the covers,” Peter grumbled, shifting onto his side with his back to Wade. He regretted the move immediately, because Wade took it as invitation to be the big spoon and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“I would never,” Wade assured him right in his ear, nuzzling his nose into the nape of Peter’s neck. Peter was too lazy to argue. Besides, having a warm body pressed all along his side was nicer than he would ever admit to Wade. Wade’s body was so much broader than his. It was nice to be able to nestle back into a giant protective heater. Peter was drifting off again before he knew it.

-

There was a phone in front of his face when he woke up, but it wasn’t his phone and the thumb scrolling across the screen was twice the size of his and heavily scarred. Peter blinked a few times to get the gunk out of his eyes to be able to focus them better and found himself reading Wade’s Twitter feed, full of Baby Yoda gifs and AOC take-downs of Republican bullshit and funny Cardi B videos. The time told him he’d been out for another couple of hours. He felt a lot better, and Wade’s warmth surrounding him was still like cozying up to an electric blanket. The fact that Peter was constantly cold from his inability to maintain any kind of body fat meant that he was currently in heaven.

“There aren’t enough puppy videos on your feed,” he told Wade, stretching a little back into his chest.

“That’s a whole other account. Gotta keep the cute animal shit in one place or I go into cuteness overload, and then I forget to do anything for three days,” Wade said, a bit higher than his ear this time. He must have moved up the pillow to see his phone better. He let his hand dangle over the edge of the bed with the phone still clutched in it and sighed dramatically. “Snow storms are fucking boring. Everyone’s inside with nothing to tweet about. Trump hasn’t said any crazy shit in like two hours. I almost started watching the Democratic debate just to make myself fall asleep.”

“Can you even vote in US?”

“No. I’m that bored, Webs. Entertain me.”

“I’m not a trained monkey,” Peter said, twisting around to face Wade with a frown.

“You’re way cuter than that.” Wade booped his nose with a goofy smile, and Peter went cross-eyed to see him do it.

“The tv probably still works. I’m sure Netflix has something you haven’t seen yet.”

“But then I’d have to move from right here, and I don’t want to move from right here because you’re here, and you look so cute when you first wake up. Look at those red cheeks.” He stroked a finger over Peter’s cheek with a fond little smile. “And that bed head. It’s like a hurricane went through that hair, and you barely moved.” He stroked fingers through Peter’s tangled hair and Peter let him, still feeling too warm and lethargic to be bothered by the too-intimate touches.

“What do you want to do, then?” he asked instead, already regretting asking as soon as the words left his lips. Whatever it was going to be was probably going to make him regret his _life_.

“We could have sex.” He said it the way he said most things he didn’t expect Peter was going to agree to, like tying up Scott Summers and stealing his glasses for the day ‘just to see what he does’ or buying hot dogs from every vendor on the East Side for a taste test that ‘definitely won’t end in Salmonella poisoning, I promise.’

But this wasn’t one of those things. Despite all of Peter’s protests, he didn’t hate the idea. Warm and cozy as he was, getting a dick in him didn’t sound like the worst way to spend time snowed in. And the fact that it was Wade’s dick? He would have been lying to say he wasn’t curious. “Okay,” he said, like he was agreeing to get taquitos for lunch.

Wade froze. A hard thump against the carpet at Peter’s back told him he dropped the phone. He stared at Peter like his brain had blue-screened and was going to need a hard reset to get going again. Peter let him reboot, turning his back to him once more while he squirmed out of his boxers and kicked them to the bottom of the covers. Wade was still making gasping fish noises while he reached over to dig blindly through the bedside table for the lube.

After locating it, he coated his fingers in it and shoved the bottle behind him towards Wade. “We’re skipping blowjobs. There’s already been too many weird combos in my mouth today,” he said, lifting the covers with his clean hand so he could reach down to lube his ass. It was probably a lost cause expecting the sheets to stay relatively clean, but didn’t hurt to try. 

“I need you to punch me in the face, because I think I’m hallucinating. Did you just… are we really having sex right now?” Wade asked, his tone confused, but also more than a little excited.

“Unless you changed your mind, in which case this is about to get really awkward, really quick,” Peter told him with a smirk over his shoulder, already sinking a test finger into his ass. The lube had warmed up against his skin and the stimulation sent slow tingles up his spine. He gave a content sigh, relaxing into the intrusion and adding a second finger.

“Nope, no, definitely not changing my mind. Didn’t think you’d be into it, but there’s no way I’m walking away from a chance to get inside your jammies. Oh fuck, are you fingering yourself right now?” The sound of a cap flipping up accompanied that last bit, followed by the wet sound of lube squeezing from the bottle and then Wade was pressed up against his back again with a hand wedged between them, awkwardly bumping against Peter’s arm as he stroked himself to hardness.

“You’ll take too long,” Peter murmured, adding a third, breath catching at the twinge of too much stretch, too quickly. It didn’t stop him from going deeper, scissoring his fingers out to stretch himself further. He’d seen Wade’s dick on more than one occasion. He was going to need it.

“You let me, baby, and I’d eat you out all day,” Wade whispered hot in his ear, all hesitation gone from his voice. Heat curled in his belly at the image, but that was for a different day. At the moment, he wanted to be wrapped up in Wade’s too-warm arms with his cock buried deep inside and an orgasm or two under his belt. Maybe three if they were left to their own devices for long enough.

“Another day,” Peter told him, pulling his fingers out and fumbling back to get ahold of Wade’s cock, pushing his own hand away, impatient to get started. Even so, he found himself stroking the length of it, exploring the rough and soft of the scars and shifting tumors. Vaguely, he wondered what the pain was like for cancer of the dick, but he knew Wade’s pain tolerance was off the charts, and he doubted Wade would be so rock hard if this was one of his bad days. His cock felt nice in Peter’s hand, thick and heavy and long enough to really get a rhythm going. But hand job wasn’t the goal here, and Peter was getting impatient staying so empty. He guided Wade to his waiting hole and teased him inside, sighing happily as the first few inches sunk in.

“Oh…” he whispered, mouth hanging open as the full girth of him stretched Peter wider than even his three skinny fingers. Wade was so warm inside him, the shifting skin like extra ribbing sparking against his insides. His prostate was like a firework that kept going off at random, sending dizzy spikes of pleasure through him.

Wade groaned when he bottomed out and wrapped himself around Peter, arms tight around his chest and face buried in his neck, hips flush with Peter’s. “Oh god, I think I’m gonna black out. I thought it would be amazing, but even I couldn’t imagine this,” Wade told him, sucking wet kisses to Peter’s throat and tucking his nose under Peter’s jaw.

Peter chuckled, finding Wade’s hand and lacing their fingers together over his heart. “Don’t pass out on me. I want at least two orgasms first.” He pushed his hips back in prompting, squeezing Wade’s giant hand in his.

Wade thrust forward to meet him, groaning into his ear. He nudged a knee between Peter’s legs to make more room and began a slow, rolling rhythm that perfectly hit Peter’s prostate every other stroke. “Two, huh? Could probably get you to four if you let me eat you out.”

“Sounds like work. We’re being lazy, haven’t you noticed? Oh fuck, do that again,” he mumbled, pushing his hips back into the sharp snap of Wade’s. He could already feel the slow burn of orgasm creeping up on him, tingling and warming him from the inside out. He lifted their joint hands to his face and sucked Wade’s index finger into his mouth, tonguing at the underside and enjoying the saltiness of his skin.

Wade clamped his teeth on the back of Peter’s neck, just setting them there in a firm hold, not breaking skin, but sending shivers down Peter’s spine all the same. He gasped, letting Wade’s hand go in the distraction of teeth and wet tongue working on his skin and lulling him into a weird state of loose-bodied submission. The liberated hand went straight to Peter’s hip, gripping him bruisingly as Wade’s rhythm sped up and began pounding against Peter’s prostate relentlessly.

Peter cried out, unable to stop the orgasm from pulling him under like a tidal wave. His vision blurred out for a minute and he convulsed hard enough to jerk away from Wade’s continued thrusts. He cried out at the loss, but it took him a few moments to get the motor skills back to take hold of Wade’s slick cock and push it back into his hole.

“Can’t get enough of my cock in you, baby?” Wade asked, nipping at his earlobe as he gathered Peter close again and thrust up into him once more. The fullness made his mind fizzle out again momentarily. Wade fit him so well, filling every crevice of him and spreading him wide and vulnerable.

“Not done, yet,” he replied, taking Wade’s hand again and cradling it in the both of his, holding it close. Wade didn’t seem to object, burying his face in Peter’s neck again.

“I’ll never be done with you,” he said, so softly he probably thought Peter didn’t hear it. Peter pulled his fist up to his mouth and sucked on his knuckles, humming contentedly. The thrusting grew slower, less deliberate, a gentle rocking of their hips together that was both soothing and an indomitable tease.

Peter was soon gasping, rocking his hips back to meet Wade’s. The second orgasm was a slower build, but the fizzle of pleasure was just as good-burn and left his whole body humming and a little floaty. By the compulsive twitching Wade was doing, Peter assumed Wade had found his own release, and the knowing warmed him up even more. He pressed back into Wade’s chest and squeezed his hand, a ridiculous smile creeping up his face and making his cheeks hurt.

“I think my bones dissolved,” Wade murmured into his ear, nipping at the curve of it in a half-hearted tease.

“For once, I understand the feeling. I think you broke my strength,” Peter said, lifting one arm up and watching it flop around in the air. “We probably should have started doing this a long while ago.”

“I don’t want to say I told you so, but I totally told you so.” Wade wrapped around him like a human blanket and smothered his cheek and neck with kisses, his grin so wide Peter could feel it against his skin.

“Yeah, yeah, gloat all you want. I want to see the snow,” Peter said, suddenly getting the urge to climb over Wade to look out the giant floor-to-ceiling windows of his room and watch the snow fall now that the light didn’t make his eyes feel like they were bleeding. He nudged Wade off him and climbed over him, headless of how tangled he made the sheets. There was grumbling and fussing and at least three muttered curses, but eventually they were curled up facing the window, Peter nestled back against Wade’s chest again and Wade’s massive thighs pressed all along his.

It was nice, being cocooned in blankets and cradled by a body so much bigger than his. He felt himself getting drowsy again and thought he might take another nap, but something felt off. He squirmed around, trying to determine what was bothering him, and the shifting caused a bit of wet to dribble from his ass cheeks. Because of course, they hadn’t used a condom and he was going to have to deal with a mess. Later. Getting up to find the bathroom just then sounded like the opposite of what he wanted to do. He reached back under the covers and found Wade’s cock, soft now but still solid in his hands. He stroked it a few times, ignoring Wade’s interested noise.

“We going again so soon, sugarbear?”

“Never call me that again,” Peter said, clenching his fist around Wade’s shaft in warning, secretly pleased that it worked to stiffen him up enough to slide back inside. He hummed his pleasure at the stretch again, arching his hips back to get as much of Wade inside as possible. “Mmm,” he murmured, taking Wade’s hand that had settled on his hip and bringing it to his chest once more, effectively forcing Wade to cuddle him.

Wade gave an experimental thrust of his hips, but Peter growled unhappily and dug his nails into the back of Wade’s hand. “Not now. Sleep, then more sex.”

“Tease,” Wade said into his ear, licking the back of it and making Peter squirm. “Didn’t know you were into cockwarming, Petey-pie. Would have been suggesting you keep Daddy’s cock warm a long time ago.” Wade rocked his hips into Peter again and earned himself creaking bones and a pained whimper.

“I said after nap.”

“Whatever you want, baby boy. I’m not going anywhere.”

For once in their long and complicated history, Peter didn’t mind. He lay in a bed three times the size of his personal one in a room three times the size of his apartment, cozy and comfortable, and watched the snow fall until he fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want writing updates from me, you can follow me on Twitter [@RonsPigwidgeon](https://twitter.com/RonsPigwidgeon), [Tumblr](https://mscaptainwinchester.tumblr.com/), [NewTumbl](https://mscaptainwinchester.newtumbl.com/), or [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/MsCaptainWinchester).
> 
> And if you'd like to come yell about Spideypool with me, join the 18+ Discord server I co-mod, [Isn't It Bromantic](https://discord.gg/w6UyAn7)!


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